


We End Where We Start

by SC182



Category: Fast and Furious 6, Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Angst and Humor, Coda, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Mild Spoilers, Multi, Post-Movie(s), Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:06:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC182/pseuds/SC182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All roads lead to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We End Where We Start

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Property of Universal, Justin Lin and Gary S. Thompson. I'm just borrowing them for a moment.
> 
> A/N: Spoilers for the end of Fast and Furious 6

For a place that they never call home, they manage to collect a ton of stuff. All of which is now littering the hallways, causing Brian to step-hop into a precarious game of hopscotch. After he step-shuffle-slides around one big bulky cardboard roadblock, he gives up on spending any more time upstairs.

Jack doesn’t mind the change in direction at all. He kicks his little feet inside his blue-green onesie and settles down into the crook of Brian’s arm. He’s midday bath clean and relaxed, just content to be moved about the new space, which Brian tells him is home.

Brian takes one last detour before abandoning the second floor and goes into Jack’s room, which may be the only completely unpacked room in the house.  It’s the one room that isn’t saturated with memories of ghosts that haunt the space. There’s no hesitation when entering here.

It’s Jesse’s room formerly. But the posters and parts have long since gone, even if the faintest trace of motor oil and electricity floats in the air next to the scent of new—new baby, new stuff, new life—it’s Jack’s room now.

“So which one, Buddy?” Brian asks, picking up a plushy airplane then a plushy fish for Jack to choose.

Jack grabs for both, because grabbing is the newest thing and his biggest accomplishment to date. The decision is made when he gurgles with a higher inflection at the sight of the plane. Brian drops the fish and grabs the plane with his free hand, stabilizing it as Jack examines it with big blinking blue-green eyes.

“Yeah, thought so,” Brian said. The kid’s got it earnest. Already setting his limited attention span on things that will go fast and get loud, they’ll be lucky if they can keep him grounded in cars. But Brian figures the universe will probably set him on a path higher than theirs, one where they can’t follow. Possibly years away, hopefully never; Brian can’t imagine Jack being in a place where he can’t follow.

For extra protection and swag, as Rome says, he slips the matching cap on Jack’s head and they’re done, finally ready to get out of the house and step into the sunshine. This time the boxes are no obstacle.

“Let’s see what Uncle Dom’s doing.”

Jack gurgles as he makes the plane rattle. He agrees.

* * *

The house is quiet today with just the two of them puttering around. Make that two and a half of them. Hobbs and Elena come and go almost as soon as they arrived at the barbecue.

Han slips away next with half-hearted promises to keep in touch that are about as sturdy as balsa wood. When Brian asks him where he’ll end up, Han says, “She wants—wanted to see Tokyo,” and Brian gives him a solemn nod and hugs and just knows that this will be the last time he’ll see him again.

With Rome and Tej sticking it out, the house almost feels the same. They get too loud and drink too much, someone talks a lot of shit and challenges are thrown, and Letty, still unsure about this new but old place called home, picks up the gauntlet and then there’s laughter until there are tears.

But Brian is still thinking of Han when they finally step out of the house into the late morning sun but talks to Jack instead. “Smell that Jack?” It’s only mildly humid and far from hazy. The smell of grass and mingling scents of the neighbors’ flowers hovers in the air. Good thing, neither of them has allergies. “It smells like a good day.”

Life as a cop means being willing to see and shoulder all the fuckedupness the world has to offer. Not that it’s all roses on the other side, far from it truthfully, but there’s exposure to loss and learning methods to cope with it. But there’s still no way of fully handling it when the loss literally slips through the fingers with nothing left to claim afterwards.

He knows Han won’t be happy in Japan, but he hopes that he can find some way to do more than just survive day to day. It’s that empathy of thinking what if that haunts Brian now. That gives him a chill despite the radiant heat. The what ifs that prod what if they hadn’t gotten Mia back? What if Elena hadn’t gotten away with Jack? What if Letty had been off course? What if Dom hadn’t made it through the fire?

 The what ifs are the slow killers that eat the heart and soul down to nothing. And they’ve come too far to be whittled down to bare bones.

The grass curls around the edges of the path leading to the front porch. It grows raggedly and uneven elsewhere in the yard. Weird contradictions of scorched and dry versus squat and lush; all framing the front of the house, that’s now on the bad side of weather beaten. Chipped flecks of paint dot the grass, sprinkled across the blades like Southern California snow.

This is where he finds Dom, alone surveying the façade, the spinning gears turning in his head as he plans to triage their home. Brian’s never really lived here. Had a few nights a couple of times. Ate his share of food and shot the shit before all his secrets where out in the open but now it’s the only place he can imagine as home.

He finds Dom by the mailbox, scowling down at a gnarly patch of weeds that had the audacity to spring up next to the marker for 1327.

As he steps into the grass, Brian bounces Jack and asks, “What’s the verdict?”

Dom gives him a quick glance before zeroing his attention in on Jack, a smile dawning across his face. “Death with no chance of reprieve.”

“Harsh, man, harsh.”

Dom cut his eyes from Jack up to Brian, his smile morphing into a smirk, cocky and teasing. “Never had a real yard before Spain, huh?”

“Not really. Boats and condos don’t offer many gardening options.” The villa in Spain is almost perfect. It has a house that sits on a sweet piece of land close enough to the sea to smell the salt in the air and a view of the mountain foothills in the west. The _almost_ stands out like a blinking light. It’s a home that’s never quite home.

“You can have sympathy for a lot of things, O’Conner. Hell, even for the devil.” Dom explains and Brian laughs for obvious reasons. “But there’s no sympathy _ever_ for weeds.”

“Gotcha.”

“Good.”

It’s just two of them today which will probably be the trend for the foreseeable future. Mia’s the one with all the potential and a modestly clean background. Whether it’s as a result of the strings Hobbs pulled or some coincidence, but the lab Mia worked for before snaps her up with all the bells and whistles to seal the deal. Brian’s happy for her and so proud. Before Letty or the jailbreak, she’s the one that manages to have the closest thing to a real life, and it’s only fitting that she’s the one that can slip back into it when the time comes.

Letty slips back into her L.A. life too but differently. This is the home of the people who call her family and the family that call her home. Dom doesn’t stop her when she goes searching, trying to fit herself into the Letty-sized holes that exist around town but still feel foreign to her despite the fit.

Brian hasn’t spent much time with her. Usually, he finds a reason to turn his attention on Jack or Mia or Rome or Tej—anything or anyone else really. Because guilt is a hell of demon to shoulder, and his still claws at him when he sees her.

So it’s them and Jack. Just two dudes, an infant and the house they’re trying to turn back into a home. They’re moving in reverse like disoriented hermit crabs, shifting back into the shell they abandoned and outgrew with the stubborn intent of making it fit again. And they will. Of that, Brian has no doubt.

The block is calm, not exactly quiet, as neighborhood traffic flows down the street and neighbors come and go on trips to work and everyday chores. The waves are friendly but reluctant—a flash of memory of cop cars and bullets popping up for the old neighbors and the recognition of faces that can’t quite be nailed down for the new.

One neighbor, a mid-thirties yuppie that neither Dom nor Brian remember from before waves at them from the yard cattycorner to theirs. “Got any plans today?” asks Dom, who gives Brian a questioning glance.

“Nothing much.” Brian peaks down at Jack, who gums the soft airplane toy with a single-minded  determination. “How about you, Jack?” The baby doesn’t answer directly, only continues to gnaw on his target.

Dom bends down in front of Jack and the baby’s attention quick shifts to his new target. Jack’s at the stage where his little hands reach and grab for all things in the immediate vicinity and gravitate them to his mouth to solve the age old question of whether they taste good. Dom’s nose and lips are no different, though Jack doesn’t manage to taste them. He only grips them with baby blunt fingernails and shakily tries to reel Dom in.

Dom’s good with Jack. He always gets a laugh or a happy gummy smile. Jack is already a daddy’s boy. He knows Brian by voice and by sight and reaches more often for him than not. Jack wants Mia just as much and knows her too, but he seems to wait for Brian to come for him. Brian is Jack’s favorite; Dom is in a tie for his second favorite.  No one can get Jack to sleep faster than Dom. And being under the same roof should only make naps and bedtime easier.

Brian looks up to see the neighbor staring at them with a weird expression. It’s a cross between soft and curious, so tremendously fond that when Brian taps Dom’s shoulder to get him up, he sees the same question reflected there, _what’s he staring at?_

The neighbor waves one last time, then calls out cheerily, “Your baby is adorable.” Which is absolutely true.

Brian holds Jack up higher against his chest. “Thanks.” His answering grin is bursting with paternal pride.

The neighbor looks ready to gush, just a bit too excited for Brian’s liking but he keeps his smile up nonetheless. “You are such a cute family.  It’s great to see another couple like us moving to the neighborhood.”

It dawns on him what their neighbor must see: two dudes standing shoulder to shoulder with a baby nestled between them. It’s not what it looks like. Then he thinks about him and Dom huddled over Jack, cooing and generally acting like babysick fools. And it becomes clear that it’s exactly as it looks.

So he takes the opportunity to rib Dom, because he’s seen Dom express a variety of expressions but speechless is a new one. “Take the compliment, _honey_.” Brian urges, tongue firmly planted in cheek.  

Dom shots him a sharp sidelong glance. Finally, he grumbles, “Um, thanks.” The look promises retribution which is totally worth the amount of eternal satisfaction Brian will have at beating Dom. It doesn’t even matter than he beat him in a sudden game of gay chicken. A win is a win, as Dom’s always said.  

“You’re welcome. Barbecue next weekend, maybe?” the neighbor practically vibrates with excitement.

“Sure,” Brian agrees. Now waving Jack’s hand as their neighbor slips behind the wheel of some little environmentally friendly import that gives both Dom and Brian the shivers in a bad way.

Brian buries his face in Jack’s downy soft hair that carries that distinct fresh baby scent that he can’t stop inhaling at every turn. He can’t stop laughing either. Jack doesn’t mind; he’s still reaching for something or someone other than the plane which is now clutched in one of Dom’s hands.

Dom’s laughter joins Brian’s.  How can it not?

“He’s right, you know.” Brian offers up as Dom resumes his inspection of the rusted mailbox.

“Yeah?”

“We’re a cute family and probably the most badass on the block.”

“Definitely.” None of the other families can compete in the badass category or the good looking part for that matter.

They’re a family. All of them crammed inside of one house—four adults and one baby plus the stray friend slash family member who comes to crash. They’re all on top of each other now as the bonds between them have always been meant to be. They don’t talk about how Brian’s committed to Mia but hasn’t asked her to marry him. Neither do they talk about all they risked and loss to get Letty back and the fact that Dom hasn’t done the same.

Brian breaks the silence again. “I guess we’re headed for the Brady’s territory.”

“Yeah, you’d think that, Marcia.” Dom hands the plane over to Brian, their fingertips barely brushing during the exchange. Then he’s back to focusing on the chipped paint and rust on the mailbox. “The Brady’s? Nah, we’re more like Leave It To Beaver, now that you’re homemaking and whatnot.”

Brian won’t be going back to the force. Not that any law enforcement agency anywhere would want him. The feeling’s mutual. So he’s content to stay home with Jack, knowing that eventually he’ll just work with Dom at the garage and watch Jack until he’s old enough to start school.

“It is what it is,” Brian shrugs. “I’m totally secure with myself, _hun_.” He snarks to rub the point home.

Dom chips away ragged spots of paint with the corner of his thumb. “If you say so. This thing needs some paint. I’m guessing you won’t mind me adding a couple of coats and the name ‘O’Conner-Toretto’ on the side.”

Brian shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“Really?” Dom asks, surprised.

Brian bounces Jack who’s become less enthralled with the plane and in want of attention. Dom reaches out for him and Brian hands him over. “I figure that’s cool. There are two Torettos in the house to one and a half of me…”

“That’s cold, only giving Little Man half credit.” Jack settles at the sound of Dom’s voice and shifts upwards to rest his chin on Dom’s shoulder.

“When he can shave, he can get a full vote. New house rule.”

Dom snickers and gives Jack a look of false pity before nodding in agreement. “Deal.”

There is so much to be done: rooms to be cleaned and exorcised of the long gone family and friends that used to occupy the space and won’t come home, cars to be tested on old streets; and old habits to become new again.

“But first,” Dom turns to Jack, “We’re gonna get rid of these weeds and then I’ll teach you about glory of a hemi.”

Brian rolls his eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, you can try, but something tells me Jack won’t just go fast.” He’ll go high and scare them in ways that they never feared for themselves.  

The work ahead of them stands daunting and slow. It’s counteractive to their way of life for this last string of years, but this life is what they have and they’ll fix it as they will.

It doesn’t matter how long it takes. They’ve already made it home.

 


End file.
